


Quiet Resource

by erichtho



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: F/F, and i ship moon/river and eclipsa/globgor so much, anyway this is one of those bond-over-loss things, but they live happily on earth for a long time so like, i couldn't figure out how else to do it, the husband's are dead i'm sry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-30 01:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19031548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erichtho/pseuds/erichtho
Summary: “I suppose… Look, Eclipsa, I really didn’t mean…”But then she trails off, because suddenly there’s a part of her that thinks maybe she did mean something by it – they’ve jostled along as unwitting allies for nearly a decade now, and although they came from different times, both have had such uniquely similar experiences. Shared kingdom, shared crown; shared magic, shared loss. Even a shared spell, back when all that counted.So, maybe they are in it together after all.





	Quiet Resource

**Author's Note:**

> no beta so apologies for any typos. title is from the piece 'quiet resource' by evelyn stein.

There's not a cloud in the sky.

Sunlight beats down, bright and radiant, and the heat should be oppressive, should be too fierce, but the wind tempers the warmth kindly, whispering through Moon’s hair and creating curls on the breeze. The perfect weather for camping, River would say. They’d only ever gone camping twice, excluding the Yurt Village, and both times Moon had cut the trip short. Each moment she had been regretful, but only partially, only as far as she was willing to apologise and say ‘Maybe another time.’ In her mind she had somehow thought the opportunities were endless – that River could wait eternally. Wait until after the war was truly over, wait until after order was restored, wait until after Star was born. She forced the poor man to wait his entire life; she even made him wait at their wedding. But opportunities, like life, are not endless. Of all people, Moon Butterfly should have known better.

The funeral had been short and sharp.

Eclipsa to her left, Star to her right. She had wept; silently, solitarily, standing waxen beneath the raging sun. Star had cried too, grown though she was, and buried her head in Marco’s arms. Only Eclipsa remained truly stoic, clinging tightly to Meteora as Globgor and River disappeared into the earth. Moon had wanted to reach out to her, grasp onto her hand, but something had kept her fingers knotted together. There was still a part of Moon, the old stock, old ruler, that wanted to keep weakness at bay. Even in the face of such obvious loss, the face of such forgivable sadness, she had kept her suffering as stifled as possible. Perhaps Eclipsa had felt the same way.

Now, a month later, Moon is still refusing to talk about it.  

That does not mean she’s shut herself away. After all, she’s still one fifth of the Coalition Council. She still has official duties to perform, official charters to tend to, meetings to oversee. No one could accuse her of slacking; she’s been working fastidiously since the burial. Awake at dawn and toiling ‘til midnight, no respite, no pause for breath, no time to blink or breathe. It’s better this way. She knows Star is worried about her, knows Marco and the Diaz’s are concerned for her wellbeing, but their fear is unfounded. Moon Butterfly has survived heavier losses than this; she has lost her mother and reclaimed the crown in the same few days. But back then, of course, she had had River to pick up the pieces.

At the thought of him she curls her lip, and curses whoever told her to take lunch in the Rose Garden.

They had rebuilt it together, all of them, within their first months on Earth. It was one of Eclipsa’s first requests, and the only thing that the Coalition Council had granted her unconditionally. To this day, its creation remains one of Moon’s clearest memories: Star carrying Meteora as she worked, Globgor and River hefting dirt as allies, herself and Eclipsa planting side by side. The garden’s continued survival was a testament to their own fortitude.

“Hello stranger.”

Moon looks up, squinting in the light.

“Oh, Eclipsa. I should’ve known I’d see you here.”

Eclipsa snorts, sits down on the bench and shuffles next to her.

“No need to sound so enthusiastic.”

“Sorry, I… Sorry.”

Moon sighs, angrily bites into the taco. She hears a rustling as Eclipsa unwraps her own lunch – if you could call it that. Three chocolate bars, stacked one on top of another. Moon watches her carefully.

Eclipsa had taken an advisory role when the dimensions collided. Globgor sat upon the council, but his wife never made the same request. Moon had welcomed it as a blessed relief at the time, and, although she would not admit it out loud, does so to this day – the destitution caused by Eclipsa’s brief reign on Mewni is still seared into her brain. Yet Moon does not, and did not, hate her successor. If anything, in the years since Mewni and Earth combined, she has grown to respect Eclipsa even more. She is a better a mother than Moon could ever hope to be. She's raised Meteora with a kind patience that poor Star never received, and spends so much time genuinely supporting both their daughters that at times Moon has felt like a back-up parent. Or a bitchy aunt.

But that, in part, is why she finds herself so worried about Eclipsa now – Meteora needs her. Hell, still Moon needs her. She may have taken only an advisory role on the Coalition Council, but her advice, when Moon actually listens, has proven more than insightful. And while Eclipsa has withdrawn from her official role since the funeral, she does not appear more rested as a result. Her usually full cheeks are beginning to hollow, and there are dark rings beneath her eyes.

“Eclipsa?”

“Mhm?”

“Where’s Meteora?”

Eclipsa blinks, frowning as she swallows her ‘lunch.’

“What?”

“It’s Saturday,” says Moon with a sigh, “Shouldn’t you be looking after her?”

“Oh, she’s um… She’s at the Diaz’s. We’ve…” Eclipsa scrunches up her nose and looks away. “We’ve been having a difficult time at home, and she wanted to be with Mariposa, so… Anyway. She’s fine, I mean… She’s going to be fine.”

Moon cringes.

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve offered to–”

“It’s okay,” says Eclipsa brusquely. “Besides, Meteora likes the Diazs more than you anyway.” She pauses, eyes wide with surprise. “Oh, crumbs, I didn’t mean–”

But Moon’s already smiling. Harsh though it may be, the knowledge is comforting.

“Don’t worry.” She bites down on her taco and speaks with her mouth full. “Truth be told, that’s where Star’s spending most of her time too.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“But I thought her and Marco had their own place now?”

Moon nods, swallows her food.

“They do. But, well, Marco likes being with his family, Star likes being with people and… I suppose we’ve not really been getting on too well either. We had a pretty bad fight just after the funeral and well… She hasn’t come to visit since.”

“Oh Moon, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s not your fault.”

“Have you spoken to her about it?”

“I’ve… Tried. But I’ve been so busy and...”

Eclipsa fixes her with an accusatory stare. Moon frowns, finishes her meal and scrunches the wrapper in her hand.

“ _What?_ ”

“You haven’t taken any time off, have you?”

“The city won’t run itself, you know.”

“And I suppose you’ve been too busy to sleep, as well?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, Moon! Yes, it _matters_ – you look like a ghost! And I _know_ Star wants to talk to you, if only you–”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, who put you in charge!? Besides, it’s not like you’re doing any better! Your daughters flown to the winds just the same, and when was the last time you had a proper meal, hm?”

Eclipsa pauses for a moment, then sniffs and looks away.

“Exactly,” says Moon, folding her arms, “Don’t act like we’re not in this together.”

It’s not what she means to say, but now it’s out she’s too stubborn to take it back. She waits for a reply, and what she’s expecting is something quick and witty. But all she’s met with is silence.

“I suppose we are,” says Eclipsa eventually, “Aren’t we?”

Moon sighs, softens at the shoulders.

“Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, I just–”

“But we _are_ ,” interrupts Eclipsa, “Two spinsters, two firecracker daughters. You must admit there are some similarities.”

“I suppose… Look, Eclipsa, I really didn’t mean…”

But then she trails off, because suddenly there’s a part of her that thinks maybe she _did_ mean something by it – they’ve jostled along as unwitting allies for nearly a decade now, and although they came from different times, both have had such uniquely similar experiences. Shared kingdom, shared crown; shared magic, shared loss. Even a shared spell, back when all that counted.

So, maybe they are in it together, after all.

“Moon?”

“Yes?”

“Do you miss River?”

Moon swallows.

“Every day… Do you miss Globgor?”

“Every day,” says Eclipsa slowly, “Every single day.”

A bluebird lands on the bush besides them. He sings, twists and turns on the head of a drooping rose.

“Please let me cook for you,” says Moon softly, “It’s the least I could do.”

Eclipsa takes a shaky breath, exhales through her mouth.

“Even if it means taking time off the Council?”

“Especially if it means taking time off the Council.”

“Are you… Are you sure? I know how much it means to you. I know how much it meant to… To Globgor.”

Moon sighs, holds out her empty hand.

“He wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

“No… I suppose you’re right.”

“We can miss them together,” says Moon, “It’s always easier to miss people together. River taught me that.”

Eclipsa looks at her, eyes wide. Moon can see tears wet the tips of Eclipsa’s eyelashes and she swallows, feels her own desperation rising.

“Please let me help,” she whispers. She can’t tell if she’s begging because she wants to hold or be held.

Eclipsa probably can’t tell either, but she breaks Moon’s gaze nonetheless. She looks into Moon’s open palm and stares for what feels like a millennium, concentrating as if she were trying to read the future. Finally, gingerly, she places her hand into Moon’s. Moon feels the weight, the warmth against her palm, and waits patiently, until Eclipsa finally folds their fingers together. The catharsis is unbearable.

She hears Eclipsa gasp.

“You’re crying,” she says.

“I know,” says Moon, “So are you.”

Eclipsa raises her index fingers to her face and picks the tear off her cheek.

“I am, aren’t I?”

The bluebird stops singing. At the silence they both turn to watch him, tracking his movements as he delicately hops between the leaves, immaculately dainty. He cocks his head and eyes them cautiously, pausing only a moment before taking wing. Eclipsa jumps as he darts overhead, soaring above them and up beyond the sky. She leans into Moon to avoid his trajectory, and Moon feels a closeness she hasn’t felt for an age.

“Oh my gosh,” says Eclipsa as she pulls away, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, the bird, I– You’re grinning!”

Moon _is_ grinning.

“It’s okay,” she says, voice cracking through the joy, “Really. It’s okay.”

“Well, I didn’t think it was _that_ funny.”

“I’m not laughing at you, I… I’m not laughing at you.”

“Then what?”

Moon smiles, softly now, and squeezes Eclipsa’s hand.

“You’re a good friend. That’s all.”

“Thank you,” says Eclipsa, “I certainly try my best.”

She stands, pulling Moon to her feet in the process.

“Now come on. I want to try one of these famous pies.”


End file.
